


A Pleasant Encounter

by Renai_chan



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, masseuse!Eggsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-07 10:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7710760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renai_chan/pseuds/Renai_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy is a Kingsman masseuse, and Agent Galahad is in need of his... services.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pleasant Encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nicecuppatea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicecuppatea/gifts).



> This is for Nicecuppatea. I hope you like it! :D

He wasn’t Eggsy’s first client after the chief therapist passed his insanely rigorous apprenticeship evaluation (with all the goddamned flying colours of the rainbow, even). Counting all the others Eggsy had practiced on both in and out of the organization, he wasn’t even his twentieth, but Eggsy surmised that there’s a certain degree of nervousness warranted when Agent Motherfucking Galahad walks into your work space looking like fucking sex on legs in a three-piece suit that is near identical to the one Eggsy had seen Agent Gawain wearing just a few days ago in the hallway but that Eggsy swears looks _completely_ different on him.

He was limping just the slightest bit, noticeable only because Eggsy had been briefed on why he was being scheduled in the first place. It was because of that that he noticed the falter in the cadence of his steps. 

_Click-click-pause_ , _click-click-pause_ , _click-click-stop_.

Eggsy startled out of his musings to find Agent Galahad looking at him curiously, his head tilted a fraction of an angle and the barest of smirks projecting the greatest of amusements on his lips.

Eggsy coloured.

“Good afternoon, sir,” he greeted politely, startling into motion. He nodded his head in a more modern approximation of a bow afforded ye knights of old and stepped aside to gesture to the massage table behind him.

Galahad returned his nod with one of his own, along with an enigmatic smile, and stepped past Eggsy towards the bed. He ran his fingers delicately over the cloth cover Eggsy had fitted on it and tweaked the tray of massage oils and towels he’d artfully arranged. When he turned back to Eggsy, his look was expectant.

“Your training went well, I hope?” he asked mildly.

Initially surprised at the question--because this was _literally_ the first time they’ve spoken to one another--and then quickly after, defensive, Eggsy stuttered--fucking _stuttered_ \--“I passed all me-- _my_ \--” Fuck. “--evaluations, sir.”

Galahad looked mildly disappointed in his answer, and Eggsy scrambled for context clues. He opened his mouth to explain himself further, maybe offer up his test scores or something so that the agent wouldn’t look, well, _put off_ by some fucking _newbie_ treating him, but Galahad beat him to it first by saying, “Did you have fun at least?”

_Fun._

Agent Galahad was asking him if he had _fun_ training to become a Kingsman physical therapist… 

Did he even know Eggsy’s name? What did he care?

“I--” Eggsy stuttered once more, gaping at him besides. “I--”

Galahad saved him from further embarrassment when he gestured to the changing curtain. “Shall I…?”

“Oh!” Eggsy darted forward, reaching for the curtain but then inexplicably stopping before he could and pointing to it instead. It was all very awkward, and he mentally cringed. “Yes, please, uh--” He grabbed a towel off of the tray and very nearly _threw_ it at Galahad who caught it one-handed with barely a thought. Eggsy whirled around in mortification, cursing “Bugger!” under his breath, and really _what is WITH you today, Eggsy Unwin?_ He turned back around with an apology on his lips. “Sorry! I--”

“Nothing to worry about,” Galahad interrupted, looking all for the world like Eggsy was the _funniest_ creature he’d ever laid eyes upon. Eggsy wanted to _die_. “I’ve caught worse things to the face than a lobbed towel.”

Eggsy _refused_ to imagine the things Agent Galahad may have caught.

Okay, so maybe a money shot _may_ have crossed his mind, but then Galahad had started towards the changing curtain, so Eggsy had the opportunity to suppress the arousal in him that that particular image created before the agent saw.

Dean and mum having sex. Dean naked. Dean _anything_.

“Okay,” Eggsy whispered and exhaled a long breath. He counted to ten and drew in a big one which he once again released. “Okay,” he repeated and felt ready enough to turn and prep for the doctor-prescribed massage.

Until Galahad emerged from the changing curtain with only the towel wrapped low around his hips.

Eggsy’s jaw unashamedly dropped, and he fucking _stared_ at the buffet of tanned skin, lean muscle, and defined cuts. His eyes were drawn immediately to his Adonis lines, and Eggsy felt the _need_ to drag his tongue up and down them. Repeatedly. Galahad apparently had the body of an underwear model packaged neatly in a three-piece suit and all the grace and charm of a proper gentleman.

Sex. On. Fucking. Legs.

“Shall we?” Galahad asked, gesturing to the bed, and Eggsy surreptitiously sucked back in the drool pooling at the corners of his mouth. Fucking _drool_. Like a fucking _idiot_.

“Please,” he invited, continuing to stare while Galahad arranged himself on his front on the bed somehow without flashing Eggsy.

Pity.

Eggsy reached for one of his bottles of oil and liberally drenched his hands. He rubbed them together to warm them up and stepped closer to the agent. Nerves fluttered in his chest despite all efforts to seem confident, and somehow it made this seem even more unbelievable. He, a fucking nobody, allowed to service Kingsman’s top agent. 

Hottest agent, too, for that matter, regardless that he wasn’t the youngest. Besides, Eggsy had always had a thing for older men anyway--

\--and, no wait. What the fuck was he on about? Why was that even relevant? He had an ice cube’s chance in _hell_ with Agent Galahad. He didn't even deserve to _think_ about it, much less take advantage of the expanse of skin he was about to fondle-- _massage_! 

Massage.

The first touch of his skin sent goosebumps rising all over _Eggsy’s_ skin which he refused to acknowledge, instead sliding slick hands down the length of one arm all the way to his fingertips. He dug lines into the gun-calloused palm and stroked each individual finger until Galahad emitted a small noise of appreciation from the back of his throat.

Eggsy swallowed.

“Pressure okay, sir?” he asked. 

“Marvellous. It’s marvellous. Keep going please,” Galahad very near _moaned_. Encouraged, Eggsy slid his fingertips once more up the length of his arm, easing away the kinks and sores until he reached the agent’s shoulders and _dug in_.

Galahad’s moan was pure _filth_ , and Eggsy suddenly sprung a hard one in his white polyester trousers.

 _Oh God, Oh God, Oh God_ , he mentally chanted. Dean doing the nasty, Dean buck arse nude and doing the helicopter with his bits--fuck, at this point, Eggsy was willing to never get hard for _life_ at the image of fucking Dean doing the helicopter as long as Galahad didn’t see the tent in his trousers.

But it wasn’t enough because with every stroke of his hands down Galahad’s muscles, he made those semi-aborted noises of pleasure that made Eggsy imagine him getting his cock sucked beneath the table like all them cock-milking porn vids.

He half imagined _himself_ beneath the table, sucking Galahad off.

Eggsy was a professional, though. Stiffy or no, it was his _duty_ to provide the agent’s muscles with relief and relaxation on his way to a full recovery, so Eggsy did his fucking job, gritting his teeth through massaging Galahad’s lower back where a good inch or so of his crack was visible above the towel, to massaging his upper thighs were Eggsy could feel the warmth of his bollocks half an inch away from the backs of his fingers.

He eased away the soreness and kinks in Galahad’s injured thigh, putting all his learnings to good use until Galahad was visibly putty on the table.

 _I did that_ , Eggsy thought proudly. He’d reduced one of Kingsman’s finest knights to the consistency of a sated cat, liquid and lazy, with just his hands. He did it, and he couldn’t have felt prouder of anything he’d ever accomplished in his life.

“Can you turn over for me, sir? I’ll do your front now,” he instructed in a low voice, mindful of the agent’s comfort. 

To this, Galahad made a soft noise of protest that had Eggsy frowning in concern.

A massage wasn’t supposed to _incapacitate_ him.

“Sir?” he asked. “Are you all right?” He touched Galahad’s shoulder to help him turn over, but the agent didn’t roll, instead pushing himself up onto his elbows and giving Eggsy an embarrassed smile.

“I, well, may have had an… unexpected…” Galahad pursed his lips, and wasn’t that--and the blush on his face--the cutest thing? “Reaction.” Eggsy frowned in confusion until Galahad looked down pointedly. Still lying on his front, nothing was visible except for the top of his (glorious) abs, but Eggsy _understood_.

Inexplicably, _his_ face flamed.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, and then quickly babbled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, “It’s all right, sir. Perfectly natural. Nothing I haven’t seen before.” And then because God, for some fucking reason, _hated_ him, he blurted out, “I can help if you’d like?”

Then he slapped a hand over his mouth and whirled around to hide his face because _Jesus fuck_! He’d just basically propositioned a Kingsman agent.

The bed creaked behind him, so he quickly stammered out, “I’m _so_ sorry, sir! I didn’t mean how that--I just--What I meant to say is that--”

He was going to get fired for lack of professionalism. He was _so_ going to get his arse booted.

“Do you often volunteer to help out clients with their... predicaments?” Galahad asked, and Eggsy would have gladly started begging on his knees, bawling his eyes out in an effort to keep his job (because God knew no other stint would ever be as good as Kingsman was) except that there was a laughter in the agent's voice that, although furthered Eggsy’s humiliation, also oddly reassured him that his job was in no such danger.

“It ain’t--I din’ mean it, I swear,” Eggsy answered, his back still turned. It was impolite, he knew, but he was, as he was quickly discovering, apparently something of a coward in the face of gorgeous, competent men. “I promise it won’t ‘appen again, Agent Galahad, sir. I--I can ‘ave someone come take my place if--”

“ _Eggsy_ ,” Galahad cut in gently, and Eggsy froze.

Slowly, he turned back to face the agent and find him sitting up and staring back, all cool confidence in his demeanour despite his near nakedness (and frankly impressive erection tenting his towel--which Eggsy was decidedly _not_ interested in right now).

“You know me?” he asked, surprised, before he mentally slapped himself because _of course_ Galahad would know him. He was a _spy_ ; finding out Eggsy’s name would have taken him all of a second and a half.

The corner of Galahad’s lips quirked up. “I do.”

“I mean, o’ course ya do. Don’t mind me, I’m bein’ an idiot, I am.” Eggsy ducked his head in embarrassment, covering his face with a hand for the same reason. He waited for Galahad’s laughter to seal his reputation as the department moron until he felt a hand grip his wrist and pull it away from his face. He looked up to see Galahad staring at him with a curiously fond look on his face.

“More should endeavour to be idiots, then, if idiots were as lovely as you.”

Eggsy unashamedly gaped at him because--

No.

He didn’t say that.

 _Couldn’t_ have meant what Eggsy thought he meant.

Galahad barely _knew_ him. _He_ barely knew Galahad. There was no reason for him to profess interest.

This was a dream. It had to be.

“Was that too forward of me?” Galahad asked, cutting into his thoughts with an abashed smile on his face.

“Well,” Eggsy answered. “Kinda? Not really, but yeah? I mean--” Galahad then proceeded to reel him in with the grip on the wrist he had yet to relinquish. Eggsy actively ignored the knees that brushed against the sides of his thighs.

“I apologize,” Galahad murmured, his voice low enough that the world beyond them melted away. It was ridiculous, Eggsy thought, the way he swayed into Galahad’s being at the tone, the way Galahad, for whatever fucking reason, seemed to _want him_ , but Eggsy was quickly realizing the practicality in the proverb ‘one shouldn’t look a gift horse in its mouth,’ not when said gift was speaking pretty words like “But I’ve been watching you for a while now, and, well. I’ve been trying to find a way to introduce myself to you that wouldn’t make me seem like a stalker or, well, some dirty old man preying on a lovely young lads.”

Eggsy’s eyebrows lifted in disbelief. “So the best way you thought of was to get practically naked in front of me and get me to put my hands on your bare skin?” he pointed out.

Galahad blinked once. Twice. And then he huffed a short laugh. A blush dusted his cheeks which he tried to hide by lowering his face.

“Yes, well, Merlin always says my ideas are a bit shit,” he said.

And then his grip started loosening on Eggsy and he started to pull away, and Eggsy decided that that was not _on_.

So he said, “Well, you are Kingsman’s top agent, so I’d wager to say they’re pretty fuckin’ effective anyway.” Then, with only the slightest degree of doubt, he surged forward and caught Galahad’s mouth with his own, delighting when the agent caught the back of his head and kept him pinned up against him as he ravaged his mouth. His arms circled the agent’s waist and pressed down with his fingers on the muscles he could reach so that Galahad would pour those lewd moans that were the result of Eggsy’s ministrations into his mouth. The older man did so, and his legs wrapped around Eggsy to keep him right where he was, so Eggsy rewarded him with a deeper kiss and more strokes to the muscles of his back.

“Fuck,” Galahad hissed into his mouth. “I’d keep you for your hands alone.” 

Eggsy smirked. “Then yer gonna luv this, guv,” he said before reaching into Galahad’s towel and grasping his cock.

“Ah!” the agent cried out when Eggsy stroked the length of it. His back arched into push his cock into Eggsy’s touch and so Eggsy was presented with the rare opportunity to suck his stiff nipples into his mouth. Galahad once more cried out when he did.

He made the prettiest of sounds that had Eggsy wishing he had his phone on hand to record them. Without it, he simply savoured each one and endeavoured to produce more. He nipped and licked and sucked at the bud in his mouth and with the hand not currently occupied with stroking Galahad’s length, he toyed with the other one, pinching and tweaking and rubbing, until Galahad decided that he could wait no further.

He grabbed both of Eggsy’s hands and used that as leverage to pull the boy’s lips off his chest and back onto his own mouth. 

“Eggsy,” he murmured against it when their kisses had calmed the wild heat in both of them.

“Mmm,” Eggsy answered.

“You won’t get into trouble if we ruin the sheets, will you?” Galahad asked.

“Guv, I’d hand wash ‘em meself if I need to,” was Eggsy’s admittedly eager reply. He was so going to get fucked by Galahad, and he wouldn’t trade that opportunity for the world. 

(But no, that was a bit of an exaggeration. He would gladly trade it if it meant he kept his job, but he wasn’t an idiot. This was a calculated risk. At the most, he’d get written up for fucking around--literally--on the job. At best, he’d have Galahad to vouch for him, and his boss would fucking shit his pants before he crossed any Kingsman agent.)

“Good.” Galahad gave a single, sure nod, and then he dropped a bomb that Eggsy was _sure_ shorted his brain out for a good minute. “Because I want you to fuck me on it.”

“Fuck,” he swore while Galahad watched him with notable amusement.

“Yes, that _is_ what I’m hoping for,” he answered.

“You want _me_ ,” Eggsy said for purposes of clarification, “to fuck _you_?”

Galahad nodded. “In any manner that you please it,” he confirmed.

“Fuck,” Eggsy repeated. Blinked for a second or two. 

Then dragged Galahad back into a vicious kiss.

The agent was laughing against Eggsy’s eager mouth, but the boy wasn’t to be deterred. Without allowing even the barest of spaces between their lips, Eggsy climbed up on top of Galahad for a better angle and moaned when the agent’s hands grasped at his arse.

“I ain’t sure I ain’t dreamin’,” Eggsy muttered as Galahad’s fingers found the buttons of his shirt and quickly helped him out of it.

“And I’m quite sure you’re not,” the agent reassured before returning Eggsy’s earlier favour by sucking one of his nipples into his mouth.

Eggsy shouted a “Christ!” His hips thrust his cock into the flat of Galahad’s stomach before he could help himself, but Galahad didn’t seem to mind. “Christ,” Eggsy repeated when each suckle shot straight to his cock and he had to push Galahad back before he blew his load right there. “I can’t,” he panted, breathless when he should have in no way been. “I ain’t gonna last long if you keep doin’ that, and I kinda wanna be in yer arse before I do.”

Galahad’s eyes glittered. “Have I told you how charming I find your natural accent?” he said in an almost conversational tone as though Eggsy wasn’t being considerably crass. He wriggled beneath Eggsy as he said so to lay himself face down on the bed.

Eggsy’s eyes widened in response to the gorgeously muscled back and supple flesh of his arse bared for his gaze. He had to hold back the need to sink his teeth into one cheek.

“Christ,” he repeated once more, a prayer of thanks for the good lord looking out for him.

“So you’ve said,” Galahad pointed out.

“You gotta give me that, Galahad, sir. I’m pretty sure I ain’t getting any closer to heaven than this,” Eggsy answered, a little distracted before he gave in to the temptation of squeezing the agent’s firm buttocks with both hands, kneading until he heard him moan.

“Harry,” Galahad said through a second one. He arched his back just a little higher to press his arse into Eggsy’s hands.

“Wot?” Eggsy asked absently. The writhing agent beneath him had the effect of completely shorting out his thought processes, so it took him until after Galahad had said, “my name,” to comprehend it. “I--I mean, yeah, course. Harry,” and if his voice came out a little breathless in reverence, Harry only tossed him a soft smile over his shoulder.

And a bottle of oil.

Eggsy blinked at it before grinning and popping the cap open.

A finger found its way between the cheeks of his arse, oiling the crevice before circling around the tight hole made even tighter by Eggsy’s legs bracketing Harry’s together. The therapist shifted so that he sat between Harry’s legs. It had the pleasant side effect of baring Harry’s hole and bollocks to him.

“Don’t tease,” Harry murmured into his folded arms on which his chin rested. He was the boss, of course, so Eggsy obeyed readily, pressing in the first of three fingers, which Eggsy determined to be sufficient enough to prepare Harry’s arse for his cock.

He stroked the walls of the agent’s arse, massaging inside like he would outside, and true enough, Harry’s moans now reflected his earlier ones.

“Another,” the agent murmured after what should have been too soon, but Eggsy trusted that Harry knew what he wanted, so once more he complied without a word but only with disbelieving amazement that this man, that this pinnacle of human perfection could want him.

“Oh!” Harry cried out when Eggsy’s fingers found his prostate. It was a mere brush on his way to pressing as far into Harry as he possibly could, but at the reaction, Eggsy backtracked and _pressed_ on it. “Jesus _fuck_!” was Harry louder cry in response. His arse pushed up further, writhing to encourage Eggsy to press and prod and stroke and tease the gland until Harry was gasping wetly beneath him, liquid and desperate in equal parts.

“Eggsy, please!” Harry begged, and Eggsy knew that the time for preparation had ended.

He slicked himself up, quick and cursory because he wasn’t going to last very long after _that_ ridiculous display. Then he leaned over and pressed a kiss to the back of Harry’s neck.

“Ready?” he asked, but Harry’s flesh was already _thrumming_ beneath Eggsy’s lips, and so he pushed forward without waiting for a response.

The agent’s moan was unlike any Eggsy had heard before: broken and wanton and so, _so_ beautiful. He endeavoured to create more of them.

“God, you feel _amazin_ ,’” Eggsy whispered reverently as he continued to sink in, in, into the tight, willing channel beneath him, filling Harry as deeply as he could. In response, it seemed, said channel tightened further around him, and Eggsy promptly choked on his breath.

Harry laughed, and Eggsy swore an oath before grasping both sides of the agent’s hips and _thrust_ into him, hard and brutal. _That_ ended his laughter well and good and Eggsy almost felt smug of the way Harry very near sobbed under his pounding thrusts, begging, “Yes. God, yes, Eggsy, _please_!”

“Yeah,” Eggsy agreed, absently biting down on the skin between Harry’s shoulders and neck, shifting so that he could fuck into him harder, faster, deeper. “Not gonna last long,” he warned, feeling his own moans strangle his words and slow his breaths.

“Nor am I,” Harry confessed, meeting him thrust of thrust, moan for moan. “I’m…” he tried to say, only to gasp loudly and freeze beneath Eggsy’s touch as he came all over the massage table beneath him.

“Fuck,” Eggsy swore, pounding into his hole with a careless abandon that made Harry, sensitive from his orgasm, whimper beneath him. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck...!” Eggsy repeated, crying out as his load emptied into Harry.

There was a moment of silence, as there always was at the end of a good fucking, before Eggsy gathered his wits about him and staggered off the table to his supplies. He grabbed a washcloth that he wet in the adjoining loo before returning to find Harry still lying on his front, gracing him with a lazy, sated smile.

Maybe it was because all his arousal had been emptied out of him that Eggsy suddenly felt oddly unnerved.

He sat himself by Harry’s hip and wiped between his arse cheeks, cleaning as much as he could of the leaking hole before he found the courage to voice out the question that had been simmering in the back of his mind before but now was bubbling like a geyser about to explode. “Why?”

Harry was still watching him with fondness and a sort of tempered joy.

He started his explanation by saying, “Because I admire you for where you’ve come from and what you’ve done to improve yourself and the lives of those around you.”

Eggsy frowned. “More people in ‘ere ’ave done better fer themselves than me. We’ve political refugees, prisoners of war, scientists, and former sex slaves doing great things ‘ere. Important things. I’m just a chav with an arsehole fer a stepdad who massages the kinks out yer back.”

Harry sat up without warning, throwing Eggsy’s hand off of him. He was pensive as he considered his next words to say, so Eggsy said nothing to force him to speak. He only grabbed a robe out of the cabinet and handed it to Harry before pulling on his own trousers because this seemed like a conversation that needed clothes.

Harry watched him, showing a little appreciation for his actions before he answered, “I have no vested interest in any of them, though.”

“And you do me? Why?” Eggsy asked once more, sitting side by side with him.

“Because,” Harry started to say, and then sighed. He bowed his head in a show of sorrow and… shame? “Because I knew your father.”

“My dad?”

Harry nodded. “He was on the road to becoming an agent himself before he…--I missed something that he didn’t, and for it, he gave his life to save three others, mine included. In return, he left behind your mother and you and… and I didn’t do enough.

“I gave her a favour of her choosing. A blank check from myself and, by extension, from Kingsman. I thought it would be enough. She could cash it in with money, with property, with connections. She could get a decent house, a job, status, enough money for the two of you to live the rest of your lives in comfort, but she didn’t. For the longest time, I thought it was because she was too proud of herself to do so. I thought she was offended by the help I offered because she was capable enough to handle you alone. 

“She wasn’t. She was broken and miserable. She didn’t know Kingsman, so she didn’t understand the enormity of the favour given to her, and instead turned to your stepfather for help, and I? I was too ashamed to check up on you.

“By the time I did, it was too late. Your stepfather had tied her to him with your sister, and the only thing I could do was to try to make reparations by getting you a decent employment at Kingsman and making sure Dean would behave himself around your mother--it was quite an interesting conversation we had.”

Then Harry reached over and brushed the pad of his thumb over Eggsy’s cheek. “I’ve been watching you from afar since then, too ashamed of my failures to come close, but you… I’ve come to admire everything about you, and I...” He sucked in another breath and withdrew his hand. 

“I may do good things for the world, Eggsy, but I am not a good man, and I… I was selfish and couldn’t keep away. I needed to have you.” He smiled gently. “And I want to keep you, but that, my boy, is entirely up to you.”

Eggsy stared at him, emotions running high and making his heart thud insistently in his chest.

There were so many things-- _so many things_ that needed to be said, but before all else: “You didn’t kill me dad.”

Harry countered, “But I _am_ the reason he’s dead.”

Eggsy shook his head. “He died in the line of duty. It’s a risk you all take when ever you go out. You made a mistake, yeah, but… but you din’t kill ‘im yerself. There’s no reason fer you to act like you did.

“And…” he continued after a short pause. “And maybe I also wanna see where this is going?” Because he would be an utter idiot to deny that Harry was everything he wanted in a lover and an even bigger idiot to let the opportunity pass through his fingers without even _trying_.

There would be conversations that need to be had, thinking he needed to do, but for right now, it seemed the right decision to lean into Harry’s space and press their lips together.


End file.
